


My Stregnth is my Weakness

by sentimental_boy



Series: Matt Murdock imagines [49]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Sensory Overload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6698401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentimental_boy/pseuds/sentimental_boy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt's senses go haywire and you help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Stregnth is my Weakness

Matt thinks he’s in love. As he walks down the streets of his city with his woman, he can’t imagine being happier. Well, he can, but that would be in an alternate universe where his life wasn’t so tragic and he’s probably a different person altogether. At this moment, in this universe, Matt Murdock is happy. According to all evidence regarding Mr. Murdock, it stands to reason that this is to end soon. As in most cases, the evidence points directly to the truth. All it takes, is a car driving by enjoying their music a little too loud and Matt’s world falls apart.

Everything is too loud, and he can’t pick anything out. It’s like a collective buzzing flowing through the city and he can’t get away from it. In times like these, he’s blind in every sense of the word. No world on fire, no 360 degree radar. He’s lost in a sea of cotton- alone and helpless.

Then he feels hands on his wrists, soft and warm, telling him he’s not alone after all. He still feels helpless, he still feels lost, but he’s not alone. He lets the hands guide him, sit him down, then they go to pull away. He panics, and grasps at the hands before they’re gone. He must seem so pathetic; he doesn’t even know if the sounds coming out of him are words at this point, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s too scared of losing his anchor- of losing you- to allow something as petty as pride to get in the way now. The calming hum of your voice cuts through the noise in response, but he still can’t distinguish any words.

-0-

You don’t know what to do. Your boyfriend who- despite being blind- exudes power and confidence, just crumpled into a heap in the middle of the sidewalk. And you have no idea why. You helped him to the nearest set of steps you could find, but you don’t know where to go from here.

You try to assure Matt that everything’s okay, that you’re here, but he doesn’t seem to be getting it. He’s reduced to a heaving mess next to you, and you’re afraid he’s going to go into a full blown panic attack if you don’t get the situation under control.

You’re not sure what the situation even is. All you know is that Matt’s not responding to you, and the first thing he did was cover his ears. You focus on translating your words into touch, since he seems to respond better to that.

You pull him into a hug, and he clings to you, sinking down to rest his head on your chest. You sit like that, running your hands through his hair and along his back until he calms down enough to explain what’s going on.

-0-

It takes Matt a while of intense focus to push enough of the city’s bustle away. The first noise he’s able to identify is the beat of your heart. It’s strong and clear in his ears, betraying your fear for him despite your otherwise calm facade. The next is the rustle of his hair between your fingers, the scrape of the fabric of his shirt against your hand.

“Hey Matt, you back?”

He pushes himself to sit up. “Yeah.”

“Are you okay? What happened?”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine. It was just a headache.”

“Mhm. Okay then, you ready to go home?”

“Yeah.” He flashes the least convincing smile you’ve ever seen, takes your hand, and starts walking back to the apartment.”

-0-

When you get home Matt collapses on the sofa and you take a seat next to him. “You want some aspirin for that headache?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Okay then, why don’t you tell me what happened out there?”

He opens his mouth to answer you, but it takes him a minute to get the words out. “I told you, it was just a headache.”

You nod. “My sister suffers from chronic migraines. Not once have I ever seen her do what you did today. And don’t tell me your senses make them that much worse or some such bullshit. I’ve seen you recover from a bullet wound with more grace than that. Tell me what’s going on Matt.”

He doesn’t offer a response, which is telling enough.

“Do you even know why that happened today? And don’t you dare mistake this for an out. I want the truth.”

He sighs. “It’s my senses.”

“Matt-”

“No, you’re right, they don’t make headaches worse. At least not to that extent.” He takes a breath. “My senses- yes, they help me function; but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re actually a sensory integration disorder. They are- they can be- as much of a disability as my blindness.”

“How's that?”

“Well I’ve talked to you about some of the unpleasant side effects my senses bring. Knowing too much about people, not being able to turn it off. _Smells._ ” He scrunches up his face at that one. “How certain textures can be just shy of painful.”

“Yeah, you’re saying it’s more than that?”

He nods. “Those things are just, like I said, _unpleasant_. Sometimes they take over though. The human brain can only process so much information at a time. I’m used to the city- I’ve never known anything else. So I’m used to the noises, I can tune them out with little effort most of the time. Since my hearing reaches so far, things fade in and out, so it’s a relatively easy transition. If something unexpected happens though- usually a loud noise- I can lose control. When I do, I’m _lost_.”

“Oh Matt, why didn’t you tell me?”  _Other than the fact that_ _you internalize everything, and_ _you’re terrible at communicating_. You resist the urge to say.

He shrugs. “It hasn’t happened in a while.” He stops, ponders on if he wants to- if he's going to- say what he needs to. “It’s humiliating, being that weak- that helpless.”

“Matt,” you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I can see why you’d say that, but you have to know, that’s the last thing I- or anyone else- would ever think of you. Even if you weren’t Daredevil. With all the shit you’ve been through, and yet you’ve stayed so determined and passionate in the process. No one in their right mind would call that weak.”

He lets out a breath and pulls you close. “I should’ve known I could tell you. You understand though; why I was scared to.” He murmurs.

“Yeah. The big, tough, vigilante can’t have his girlfriend see his weakness yet.”

He chuckles. “Well I haven’t seen yours yet.” He strokes his fingers along your arm, and the sincerity under the teasing  doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “I can’t tell you how much it helped to have you there today. Your touch grounded me, helped me in a way I’ve only experienced one other time in my life.” He confesses, now that the sense of earnestness is once again hanging between you.

“When was the other time?

“When I woke up for the first time, and realized I was blind. That I’d never see again. Not in the same way at least. My dad was sitting in the chair next to the hospital bed when I woke up. I started to panic, and he brought my hands to his face, telling me everything would be okay.”

“Fuck Matt, what happened today meant that much?”

He nods.

“What if I’m not there next time?”

He knows why you’re asking, doesn’t drag it out pretending he doesn’t. “It’s happened before when I was fighting. If it happens again I’ll handle it.”

“That simple?”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been okay, I’ll _be_ okay.”

You sigh. “Okay Matt.” A blanket of silence falls over the two of you and you can’t help but think about what it must be like for Matt. You’ve thought about it before, but he never complains. After what happened today, you’ve severely underestimated what he deals with. “So, it never quiets for you?”

“Not completely, no.”

You let out a breath in disbelief. “I don’t think I ever fully understood that. I don’t know if I could handle it if I couldn’t come home and have some quiet at the end of the day.”

He shrugs. “It’s not so bad. Most of the time I don't even notice it, it's just a collective hum in the background. It’s better when I have something else to focus on though.”

“Like what?”

“You. Your voice if you’re talking, the steady rhythm of your heart if you’re not.”

“Well I’m glad it helps. And Matt?”

He gives a little nod to let you know he’s listening.

“You don’t have to deal with this alone. You don’t have to deal with anything alone. Okay?”

He gives you a little smile. “You know, before my… episode earlier, I was thinking.”

You run your hand along his chest. “About what?”

“Us. I thought to myself: I think I love her.” He feels your hand still, and reaches up to take it in his. “And after today, I’m sure of it. How you handled the situation when I couldn’t, how you treated me after. Y/n, you know me. Like no one else. You’re there for me, but you’re not afraid to call me out on my shit. I love you for everything you are and everything you help me to be.”

You lean in for a kiss, sliding your hands to his face as he puts his on your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You kiss and draw breath; kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and draw breath again. You lose track of time as you sit like that, until you pull back, and rest your forehead on his. “I love you too Matt.”

“I think I got that.” And that cheeky grin is back in business.

“Oh yeah? Would you rather I'd have just left it at that?”

He shakes his head, grin losing it’s cockiness, morphing into a loving, contented smile. “I’m kidding.”

“That’s what I thought.”

You know you're in love. As you sit in your home with your man, you can't imagine being happier.


End file.
